« PreviousContinue »
No less belov'd. The Roman Emperor's letters,
Luc. Ay, good youth, And rather father thee than master thee.. My friends, The boy hath taught us manly duties. Let us Find out the prettiest dazied plot we can, And make him with our pikes and partizans A grave. Come, arm hiin t. Boy, he is preferrà By thee to us, and he shall be interr'd As foldiers can. Be chearful, wipe thine eyes : Some falls are means the happier to arise. [Exeuntá.
SCE N E. VIII.
Changes to Cymbeline's Palace.
Enter Cymbeline, Lords, and Pisanio. Cyni. Again, and bring me word how 'tis with her, A fever with the absence of her fon; Madness, of which her life's in danger. Heav'ns! How deeply you at once do touch me. Imogen, The great part of my comfort, gone! My Queen: Upon a desperate bed, and in a time When 'fearful wars point at me! Her fon gone, So needful for this present. It strikes me past The hope of comfort. But for thee, fellow,, Who needs must know of her departure, and.
Meaning her fingers. Johnson.
Doft seem so ignorant, we'll enforce it from thee
Pif. Sir, my life is yours,
[nels, Lord. Good my Liege, The day that she was missing he was here ; 1.dare be bound he's true, and shall perform All parts of his subje&tion loyally. For Cloten, There wants no diligence in seeking him, And will no doubt be found.
Cym. The time is troublesome ;
Lord. So please your Majesty,
Cym. Now for the counsel of my son and Queen!. I am amaz'd with mater.
Lord. Good my Liege, Your preparation can affront* i no less: Than what you hear of. Come more, for more
you're ready ; The want is, but to put these powers in motion : That long to nove.
Cym. I thank you. Let's withdraw, And meet the time as it seeksals. We fear not? What can from Italy annoy us, but We grieve at chances here -Away. [Exeunt.
Pis. I heard + no letter from my master, since
'Tis strange ;
Your forces are able to face such an army as we beas: the enemy will bring against us. Johnson. .
+ I've had no letter. Hanmcr.
Wherein I'm false, I'm honest; not true, to be true, 1 hese present wars shall find I love my country, Ex 'n to the note o'th' King, or I'll fall in them. All other doubts by time let them be clear'd; Fortune brings in some boats that are not steerd.
Enter Belarius, Guiderius, and Arviragus.
Arv. What pleasure, Sir, find we in life, to lock From action and adventure.
Guido Nay, what hope
[death Guid. This is, Sir, a doubt, : In such a time, nothing becoming you, Not satisfying us.
Aru. It is not likely,
Bel Oh, I am known
+ A render for a confefion. -
Tho' Cloten then but young, you see, not wore him
Guid. Than be so,
Aro. By this fun that Mines
Guid. By Heav'ns I'll go ;
Arv. So say I, Amen.
Bel. No reason I, fince of your lives you' set So flight a valuation, should reserve My crack'd one to more care. Have with you, boys; If in your country wars you chance to die, That is my bed too, lads ; and there I'll ly. Lead, lead. The time seems long: their blood thinks fcorn
[Aside. 'Til it fly out, and flew them princes born.
ACT V. SCENE I.,
A Field between the British and Roman Camps.
Enter Pofthumus, with a bloody handkerchief *.
Pofthumus. YEA CEA, bloody cloth, I'll keep thee ; for I wild Thou should be colour'd thus. You married
ones, If each of you would take this course, how many Must murder irives much better than themselves; For wrying but a little? Oh, Pisanio! Every good servant does not all commands; No bond, but tò do just ones. - -Gods, if you Should have ta'en vengeance on my faults, I ne'er Had liv'd to put on this; fo had you sav'd The noble Imogen to repent, and struck Me, wretch, more worth your vengeance. But alack, You snatch some hence for little faults; that's love, To have them fall no more ; you some permit To second ills with ills, each elder worie, And make them dread it t-to the doer's thrift. . But Imogen's your own. Do your best wills, - ,
* The bloody token of Imogen's death, which Pisaonio, in the foregoing act, determined to send. Johnson.
+ The divinity-schools have not furnished juster abon fervations on the conduct of Providence, than Posthumus gives us here in his private reflections. You Gods, says he, act in a different manner with your different creatures;
You snatch some hence for little faults; thut's love, ,
To have them fall no more. Others, says our Poet, you permit to live on, to multiply. and increase in-crimes,
And make them dread it, to the doer's thrift. Here's a relative without an antecedent fubftantive;